Hiei Kitty!
by Steven Kodaly
Summary: At the beginning of Harry’s Sixth Year at Hogwarts, he receives a strange gift from Bellatrix Lestrange: a rather bizarre cat. Meanwhile, in Japan, Hiei of the Spirit Detectives has gone missing. Coincidence? Not on your life! Yaoi, Crossover Pairing.
1. Chapter 1

_Hiei Kitty!_ Idea proposed by RuneWitchSakura, used with permission. At the beginning of Harry's Sixth Year at Hogwarts, he receives a strange gift from Bellatrix Lestrange - a rather bizarre cat. Meanwhile, in Japan, Hiei of the Spirit Detectives has gone missing. What madness ensues when Yusuke and company go to Europe to track down their friend? Harry Potter/Yu Yu Hakusho Crossover, Hiei/Harry, Dumbledore&Ron!Bashing, Calculating!Hermione, Kitty!Hiei, HonorHarrington!References, other warnings and labels added as needed.

With thanks to Shadow Oblivion for acting as beta-reader/innocent victim of my work.

**Disclaimer**: I am not responsible for creating Harry Potter or Yu Yu Hakusho (or Honor Harrington and Sphinxian Treecats, for that matter), nor am I intending to profit from this. Enjoy!

* * *

_Oh, my aching head_, thought Hiei to himself. _Where am I? And who was the crazy lady with a stick who shot that weird light at me?_ Unthinkingly, he proceeded to lick a paw in deliberation. _So, what do we have here?_ Looking around himself, Hiei performed a mental evaluation of his surroundings. What he saw didn't look good; an oversized, unfamiliar bedroom rarely does, especially when - _is that blood? Human blood?_ Tail lashing, now, Hiei began to check himself over for any combat injuries; what he actually saw surprised him, however. 

_What the bloody HE-_ he thought to himself, _is this me? Am I a cat?_

_. . . It's kind of sexy, actually . . ._

His complimentary self-appraisal was understandable; he was covered from his cute, pointed ears to the end of his tail in fur colored an unusually dark shade of cream. His body - discounting his tail - was about two feet long; the tail added another foot and a half, easily, to his length.

_Even though cats are supposed to have only four legs, not six,_ he thought to himself. _I wonder what's up with that? Did the hag try something she couldn't manage on me?_

_So, I'm some sort of freak - a _sexy_ freak, but still. Business as usual, I suppose._

With that thought in mind, Hiei leapt off of the bed on which he had found himself, with the intention of performing a closer investigation of the room - the wall stained with blood was downright fascinating to him - when the only door burst open, a rather thin boy falling through it.

_Ouch, I guess we know where the blood comes from, now._

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry Potter was not your average teenage boy. In fact, he was just about as far from being an ordinary cookie-cutter cutout of a teenager as one could find in Little Whinging, Surrey, much to the dismay of his relatives in that very neighborhood. These relatives, Mr. and Mrs. Vernon and Petunia Dursley, and their rather over wide son, Dudley, sought to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary could possibly occur in _their_ home. However, they were finding it increasingly difficult to sustain this polite fiction, even within their own minds; what they would have done upon seeing an owl carrying an enchanted letter doesn't even bear considering. Fortunately for their peace of mind, they were not home to observe Harry receive a rather loud letter by owl-post.

"HARRY, DEAR, I HOPE YOU'RE HAVING FUN IN YOUR MUGGLE HOVEL" shrieked a fluttering red envelope. "I'VE SENT YOU SOMETHING OF A GIFT. I HOPE YOU FIND IT ENTERTAINING BEFORE YOU DIE AT THE HANDS OF THE DARK LORD!"

The Howler, a magical letter that blasted its message at several dozen decibels of sound louder than most doctors recommend is safe, then proceeded to destroy itself in a small, localized maelstrom of catastrophic magic and maniacal laughter, in the process launching a hex at Harry. Harry promptly dodged, but as he was in the living room of his home, the hex impacted on the television set.

Muggle - that is to say, non-magical - devices rarely mix well with magic, and this television was certainly no exception. The exploding device managed to clip Harry with flying shrapnel, cutting him in several places. As Harry tried to staunch the bleeding, he thought to himself, _that's the third Howler this week! What is it with that psycho; is she obsessed with me? I guess I'll have to get Mrs. Figg to come over so I can start casting cleaning spells again._

Harry went up to his room, where his magic wand was located. As this little episode proved, he couldn't even walk down the stairs in his own house without being attacked - by Bellatrix Lestrange, no less! - and he certainly wasn't about to leave the warded protections of Number Four, Privet Drive without at least arming himself, and blast any laws against underage wizardry! However, once he was under the supervision of Mrs. Figg, he could cast away with no one able to complain that he was performing magic around Muggles.

Arabella Figg was a Squib - someone born into the Wizarding World who had, essentially, no inborn talent for magic. However, since she _was_ a part of the magical community, she could allow Harry to perform spells outside of school, so long as no Muggles were around to see it. At worst, she could let Harry use her fireplace, connected to the Wizard's Floo Network, to fetch someone who could use magic without being accused of breaking Wizarding Law. However, unless the Ministry of Magic had rescinded its recent decision concerning him and the use of magic outside of school, he only needed supervision to cast spells outside of an emergency.

Distracted by dark thoughts concerning the meddlesome Ministry, he was unprepared for the hex that Lestrange had somehow managed to put on his door - a simple tripping hex, oddly enough. One would think, as Bellatrix Lestrange wanted Harry dead for daring to stand against her precious Dark Lord, that she would have placed more dangerous spells in his house. But, that was Bellatrix for you; anyone who was born into the "Noble and Most Ancient House of Black" was practically required to be loopy, and she certainly excelled at that.

Mental stability aside, she apparently could give the Weasley Twins a run for their money when it came to pranks, at least if what she had done so far was any indication - the incident with the dish of pasta simply didn't bear thinking on. The Tripping Hex caught Harry right as he flung open the door to his room, and was just a little unbalanced. Predictably, Harry fell forward - had it not been for a quick twist as he fell, he might have squashed the furry observer who had entered his room unannounced. As it was, blood from his cuts went flying as he impacted with an "oof!" on the floor of his bedroom, adding to the mess already present on the walls and floor.

_Hmm, he doesn't look like much,_ thought Hiei to himself; _he's much too scrawny. Not to mention clumsy. But, I suppose that explains the blood stains._

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP_  
_

In an office located within Reikai - the Spirit Realm - a young-looking man was sitting behind a rather substantial desk. More precisely, he was leaning back in his fancy office-chair, holding a telephone receiver to his head in one hand, and an infant's pacifier in the other.

"Hey, the historians and biographers make their own share of mistakes, too. Just look at the travesty of a story they wrote about Yusuke; honestly, they said that he simply had Demon heritage, when anyone with half a brain knows that - oh, shoot, I've got a call on the business line, I've got to take it. I'll call you back, okay?" With that said, the man sat upright and pressed the glowing button on his phone labeled "Urgent." In a much less cheerful tone of voice, he spoke, "What is it, you interrupted a very important call -" but was cut off by the person on the other end of the line. A moment later -

"_**WHAT?!?**_ Whaddaya mean, 'Hiei's missing?'"

* * *

End Chapter One. 

Author's Note: Commentary and such will be greatly appreciated! Also, if anyone can tell me how to use a series of three asterisk characters instead of this HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP nonsense, it would be greatly appreciated - not to mention that it would look more professional. For some reason, the document editor refuses to save them whenever I try to input them and save the changes. It's stupid, but the only other alternatives are to either have that gray line - which I'm using to start and end the actual chapter - or simply to have a large space to indicate a change in scene or point of view.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Hooray! More of Yusuke's part of the world!

Disclaimer: I am not responsible, in any way, for the creation of Harry Potter, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Sphinxian Treecats.

Beta-read by Shadow Oblivion.

* * *

A girl with improbable blue hair and a downcast face walked into the meeting at Koenma's office in the Spirit Realm. Koenma - the man with the pacifier - immediately pelted the girl with questions. 

"Botan, do you have any more information on what happened to Hiei? Do you know who's got him? What's being done to -"

"STOP." Said the girl, imperiously. After a moment, she continued in a more conversational tone, "Kurama and Yusuke are going to be here shortly, and I don't want to have to repeat all this to them. Trust me on this, we have some time, so don't panic just yet."

Just then, a buzzer sounded on Koenma's desk, and a voice sounded through an intercom. "Urameshi and Kurama are here and asking to see you, sir." "Send them in," said Koenma, "we've been waiting for them."

As he spoke, the door to his office opened again; this time, a young man with green eyes, flowing red hair that some girls would kill for, and a face that could only be described as "pretty" walked in, flanked by another young man with short, black hair, and hard eyes that practically screamed "Irritated." After the door closed, the redhead - Kurama, a.k.a. Suuichi Minamino - spoke. "This had better be good; pulling Yusuke from his date with his lady love is always a life-threatening proposition, especially since they've had so little time together recently. I thought that you were giving us some time away from our duties, Koenma? Mother was so looking forward to spending time shopping with me."

"I wanted to, but we seem to have a problem. Hiei's missing."

"_**WHAT?!?**_" shouted the black-haired man.

"That was pretty much my reaction, Yusuke; I suppose great minds think alike, huh?" Koenma smirked around the pacifier in his mouth. "Now, Botan, since these two have arrived, would you please tell us what you know?"

"Certainly," replied the girl. "Now, we know that Hiei was keeping to a schedule, and that no one outside of this room - not even Kuwabara - should have known his full itinerary; unfortunately, we didn't take into account any chance encounters with foreigners. What we have here, guys, is a crime of opportunity. A botched one, at that."

"And just how," Kurama interrupted, "could a fighter of Hiei''s caliber be ambushed?"

"Easily - if someone uses techniques for which he wasn't alert. Foreign magic, in this case. We've bagged the perp," Botan continued brightly, "and she's singing like a bird. Says her name is Bellatrix Lestrange, from the United Kingdom, Europe, and that her 'Dark Lord'' will kill us all - quite painfully, I might add; she's got quite an imagination, that one - for daring to interfere with one of his trusted servitors. She also says that we'll never find him, as she's sent him, and I quote, 'where powers dark and light can reach, but not truly grasp. A place of protection.'"

"So," said Koenma, "that's why you say we have time? You're comfortable with her predictions of his safety?"

"Yes, I am. She's seen no reason to lie so far, and we'd find out if she did. Since she _was_ able to send Hiei, well, _somewhere_, the interrogators and I are fairly certain that she's got an idea of what she's talking about."

"Alright, if you can find out any more information on where she sent Hiei, let me know. In the meantime, boys," said Koenma, turning to Kurama and Yusuke, "I want you to go to the U.K. and find out what you can about this 'Dark Lord.' If his minions have enough reach to influence events out here, we need to know more about it."

"Umm . . . Keiko's going to pitch a fit about this," said Yusuke worriedly.

"Fine. Bring her along. Heck, call it study abroad, and send my office the bill. _Just get me more information._"

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

In another sizeable office, half a world away, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, was having an early-summertime chat with two Prefects of his school, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. The subject: one Harry Potter, student and celebrity.

"Now I know that keeping Harry in the dark last summer was a mistake on my part, and I'm sorry that he put some heat on you, but you know perfectly well how he'd take to learning about _this_. I trust that you've been writing some letters on your own?"

"Of course, professor!" said Ron, a freckle-faced, gangly young man with ginger-red hair. "He'd tear strips out of our hide if we hadn't!"

"Good, good!" said Dumbledore. "Now, what I want you to stress in your letters to him is that he needs to take lessons from Professor Snape again; it's of paramount importance, both against Voldemort," the two students flinched at the sound of the dreaded name, though Ron's reaction was somewhat more noticeable, "and for our plans later on. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. But," said Hermione, a bushy-haired brunette, "Harry's not going to take this well, especially from us. He knows that we know how much he detests the professor; us telling him to 'get over it' will simply seem to be another betrayal." She shook her head. ""It's going to be counterproductive for us to tell him so. Why not write him yourself? He'd take it a little better from you."

"I will be, Ms. Granger, rest assured, but I feel that my message could use all the reinforcement it could get," Dumbledore replied.

"C'mon, 'Mione, we're here because we know Harry''s a loose cannon!" Ron chimed in; he continued, "Besides, once he defeats You-Know-Who, he won't last long. After that, we won''t ever have to deal with his moods again!" _And my family will get his money, courtesy of Ginny bagging him_, was his unvoiced thought.

Unvoiced or not, Hermione didn't need to be a Legilimens - a master of gazing into the minds of others through the art of Legilimency - to hear it clearly enough. But she kept her opinion of Ron's motives to herself. _Just keep everything under wraps a little longer, and Harry can win this war for the Light. I just wish that Ron wasn't using Ginny so. It just seems _wrong_, somehow. And then destroying Harry if he doesn't die soon enough for them - I can't accept that!_

And, truthfully, she couldn't simply sit back and accept the loss of her friend. Harry had been one of her first friends at Hogwarts, and really had never viewed her as less. He'd found her mind and memory rather intimidating, but it hadn't interfered with their friendship - or with their saving each other time and again, from Basilisks to Werewolves and everything in between. Harry worried her sometimes, but a world without him would be a much bleaker place.

Ron, though, was a different story. After the mess with the Triwizard Tournament, when Ron had become jealous of all the attention Harry got as a matter of course, Hermione had realized that Ron would never be satisfied as Harry's sidekick and friendly neighborhood chess master - and that he'd never be much of anything else. Unlike his brothers, who'd all gone and _done something _with themselves, from opening joke shops to opening cursed tombs, Ron wasn't geared for working hard days and nights to earn his way. Ever since Harry had given Ron the slightest taste of the limelight and good life, Ron had craved it like a junkie does his fix - and he could never have a big enough dosage. Being made a Prefect over Harry had helped, for a little while, but that had been tempered with the knowledge that their Head of House, Professor McGonagall, had really favored Harry over Ron, and that the Headmaster had given the Prefect's badge to Ron over McGonagall's protests.

_I'm woolgathering again. Focus, girl, and you can send a letter to Harry telling him to meet you away from everyone. _Then_ you can spill everything._ With that settled in her mind, Hermione turned her wayward thoughts back to the Headmaster.

* * *

Author's Note: While I've checked some spelling with Wikipedia - namely, Legilimens and Legilimency - please tell me about any spelling errors that my beta-reader and I haven't caught. 


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Sorry about how long this chapter has taken, folks; I've been trying to sell my soul to Rock & Roll, and not having too much success. On the upside, I actually have a better idea of where I'm taking this fic. Thanks to **Shadow Oblivion** for beta-reading this material.

Disclaimer: I am, in no way, shape or form, responsible for Harry Potter, Yu Yu Hakusho, or the concept of Sphinxian Treecats. I'm simply playing with them for my own amusement.

* * *

Harry was sitting on his bed, pondering the seemingly absurd turns his life had taken. He'd almost gotten accustomed to the fact that he was a wizard, and a famous one, at that. He'd resigned himself to the fact that there were murderous people out to get him. He'd even grown used to the strange visitors that popped into his bedroom. But this business with Bellatrix Lestrange working pranks at long distance - now even sending him a gift - it was quite simply bizarre. The woman wanted to kill him, for goodness sake! Why on Earth would she be putting spells on his house that, for a powerful Dark witch such as Bellatrix, were little more than child's play in comparison to the destructive curses she _could_ be laying? 

Of course, what really took the cake was the strange creature that was currently sitting on his lap, emitting a buzzing purr as it rolled onto its back for a belly-rub.

Harry didn't know what it was, but it had seemed friendly enough, for something that had almost gotten squashed by a falling teenager; Harry's first sight of it had been when he had tried to soften his landing after being caught by a Tripping Jinx placed on his bedroom door. Now, with the strange creature relaxing on his lap, he gave it a more thorough evaluation.

What struck Harry first, aside from the cream-colored fur, were the six legs. They all had what appeared to be opposable thumbs, and Harry had seen that each paw had several retractable claws. The tail had a few bands of darker fur, and was almost as long as the creature's two-foot body. The - it wasn't a _cat_, but Harry had no better name for it - had eyes that, when open, were a solid glossy black. It also had a formidable array of teeth in its jaws. In fact, the creature appeared to be yawning and stretching under Harry's hands -

And stretching, and _stretching_, and -

And its appearance was shifting, right before Harry's eyes. Where there had been six limbs, now there were four, and they were lengthening, along with the body. The head was growing in size, with the ears shifting down to the sides of the head, and the tail and all that fur were disappearing, right into the creature''s pale skin -

_Lots_ of skin. In fact, aside from the black hair that had appeared on the creature's head, there wasn't much else, except for what was, quite recognizably, a male body, nude as the day he was born. Quite a slim and trim body, all things considered.

_Oh, no, did I just think that? I've got a naked Animagus on my lap, and I think about _that?!

Panicking now, more at his own thoughts than the sudden transformation before him, Harry quickly stood up, practically throwing what had become a young man from his lap. The man's eyes opened, black as before his form had shifted, and he somehow managed to land on his four arms and legs, as opposed to simply falling on his face. He promptly stood up - and then seemed to realize his state of undress. The expression on his face soon matched Harry's own embarrassed look as he turned around, searching for clothes.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

_Blast it, this is just embarrassing! I relax for one minute, and _BAM! _I'm back to normal, making a fool of myself._

Hiei was standing, still without clothes, in a corner of the room in which he'd appeared. He was quite busy being silently furious at both himself and the strange person who had sent him here.

_I still don't know who that was, but I'll find out. And when I do . . ._

Well, suffice it to say that Bellatrix Lestrange wasn't the only person around with a rather inventive mind. In the meantime, Hiei would simply practice his ugliest looks against the poor, inoffensive wall that had, somehow, earned his ire. Had the wall been able to see, it would not have enjoyed being subjected to Hiei's glare; as it was, only the fact that Hiei was - apparently - some sort of guest prevented him from smashing holes in it.

The boy who'd almost fallen on him earlier had fled the room, stammering unintelligibly. Hiei supposed that he was going to get some clothes; he'd certainly been blushing hard enough at Hiei's exposure!

Of course, getting to that state of exposure had been less than comfortable; when Hiei's body had been shifting, he'd felt something deadening his nerves, keeping him from being wracked with pain as his body reassembled itself in its new - well, old - shape. He'd also felt something fighting the change itself, something that reacted to his demon powers, and it hadn't completely gone away; he could feel it there, clinging like a second skin. It was disconcerting, to say the least, and Hiei was worried that whatever it was could have interfered with his abilities.

_Or,_ he thought suddenly, _maybe it's like Kurama's ability to change his form; ever since he drank that potion during the Dark Tournament, he's been able to shift between his human and demon forms at will. Now, how to test it?_

His thoughts casting about, Hiei sat down in his corner, curling his arms around his chest. _Now, let's see, I managed to get out of that shape - how?_ Unconsciously, his arms tightened, and he brought up his knees in a rather uncharacteristic defensive posture. _I don't know what actually triggered the change; how does Kurama do it, anyways?_ Hiei continued to hunker down, and was startled from his reverie when he heard the door open again, the boy from before stepping through. He turned around, only to discover -

_Dammit, I'm furry again!_

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry had left his room in a panic - though not before managing to snatch his wand up from his desk - and had gone to the kitchen to fix himself a glass of water. After taking a few minutes to relax, his mind began working again. Admittedly, this wasn't necessarily an improvement.

_I've got a naked Animagus in my room! He's strange and attractive and . . . and naked! What the _HELL _is going on here?!_

Out of desperation, Harry latched onto something he could arrange to change the situation - clothes.

_Okay, I've got to get him to wear something; house elves are one thing, but this is just outrageous! What is it with people popping into my room wearing nothing but fur or pillowcases, anyways?_

While still somewhat distracted - _He's naked up there! _- Harry regained enough mental balance to fetch some of his less ragged clothes from a laundry hamper; he then proceeded to take them back up the steps to his bedroom door, and steeled himself as he prepared to open it up. Fortunately for Harry, his guest had undergone a change in wardrobe, so to speak - he had changed back to his smaller, furrier form.

The catlike head turned towards Harry, glaring at him until his gaze caught the clothes in the teen's arms. The transformed person immediately leapt for Harry and his burden; Harry just as immediately fell down under the sudden weight that had thrown itself at him.

_He's as good as a Tripping Jinx,_ Harry thought darkly. _How are you going to get dressed if you're sitting on the clothes - and on me?_

* * *

AN: Okay, next chapter, Severus Snape and his dastardly plotting against all interested parties! 


End file.
